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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26203969">speaking in tongues</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/saberteeth/pseuds/saberteeth'>saberteeth</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Devil May Cry</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, BRIEF allusions to pregnancy angst, But They are TRYING!, Extremely Self-Indulgent and Headcanon Filled, Heavy Allusions to Events in the DMC1 Novel, Incest, M/M, Minor Descriptions of Gore, Past Tony Redgrave/Grue, Tags and Rating Will Be Updated with Chapter 2, The Twins have Dicks and Pussies, Unhealthy Relationships, messy sex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 07:47:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,177</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26203969</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/saberteeth/pseuds/saberteeth</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Every couple has their first big fight after the honeymoon period ends.</p><p>Dante and Vergil just have heavier things to fight about than most couples, is all.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dante/Grue (Devil May Cry), Dante/Vergil (Devil May Cry)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>104</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hometowne/gifts">Hometowne</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p><b>IMPORTANT NOTES:</b>this fic is FILLLLLLLLLEDDDDD with niche headcanons of mine (and two friends that helped me jam this) but i hate to leave something sitting in the docs when there may be others out there who would enjoy it!</p><p>general knowledge of the dmc1 novel would help here, but here's a quick summary of the events alluded to: dmc3 retconned the novel to take place before those events. dante is a mercenary going by tony redgrave partnering with a man named grue, with whom he has a very close relationship. grue has 3 kids, whom dante appears to deeply care for. i obviously headcanon that the two were together. vergil shows up (as gilver) causing shenanigans (er, that's one word for it). said shenanigans indirectly cause grue to die (dante does not know what happened to him, only that he disappeared) and for dante to have to mercy kill one of grue's daughters.</p><p>this fic takes place a while after 5 – they've been back in the overworld for a while, and vergil has calmed down a LOT. i don't want to "woobify" him so to speak but i do think he would have chilled out immensely after their hell roadtrip, and is trying to atone, now. he's being vulnerable and trying to apologize, here. you'll see a sharper side of vergil in part 2, but this will ultimately have a happy ending &lt;3</p><p>ok last thing, i refer to vergil as nero's mother here because in my heart he gave birth to that childe.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>One of the first things Vergil does when he settles into a domestic life and employment at Devil May Cry, is take over the books.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dante is shit with money. He’s shit with numbers in general, and blames it on his second grade education, which Vergil supposes is fair. But still. Vergil, even at 8 years old, had taken it upon himself to parse through books in the library, to steal paper and pencils wherever he could find them, to teach himself the things he wasn’t learning in school. But he had always enjoyed learning, he supposed, excited every morning for their mother’s homeschool lessons, up and dressed and ready to go. Dante had to be dragged out of bed nearly every morning, and constantly asked if he could copy from Vergil.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was smart in many ways, but was never inclined toward academics.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And gods, was he broke. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>shouldn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> be – he was one of the best, if not </span>
  <em>
    <span>the</span>
  </em>
  <span> best hunter in the business. But he had absolutely </span>
  <em>
    <span>no idea</span>
  </em>
  <span> how to handle money. He squirreled it away on things he didn’t need: ridiculous jackets and boots (okay, maybe he couldn’t exactly berate Dante for those without looking like a hypocrite), junk food, whiskey, superfluous parts for his motorcycle. Vergil supposed all of those things were fine in moderation, but not when you were forgetting to, or were unable to, pay your gas and electric. Or your water. Or your rent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So Vergil takes over the books.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s taking more jobs now that you’re back,” says Lady, leaning against the wall on the other side of the pool table. She’s warming up to him now, but there’s still a frosty edge on the tips of her personality, not quite melted to a dew. Trish doesn’t hang around whenever Vergil is the one manning the desk; she makes herself scarce whenever they’re in the same space. He understands, and is grateful, for both of their sakes. “Used to be hard to drag him out of bed, out of the house. He’s happier now, so.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yes, Vergil suspects that’s why she hasn’t fired warning shots into his head, yet. Dante’s told him the story of how they met, though he had danced around </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span> they had met, although Vergil had obviously already known why. Discussing their past was still tenuous at best. The idea that Dante is happier now that they’re together is odd to him, but he’s happier too, so he doesn’t question it and tries not to fixate on the sins of his past.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m happy to hear that,” he replies, glad that Dante is out of the shop. His brother knows how he feels; he doesn’t like saying it out loud, still. Too vulnerable. Their discussions in the underworld had been enough; Dante is aware and doesn’t press.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” says Lady. “So, you know, he should be out of the red soon. Especially now that you’re here to do the accounting.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmm,” says Vergil, pausing on a row of numbers on one of the bills. Perhaps he needs glasses, but –</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, I don’t know why the two of you are so averse to using the internet like normal humans,” Lady is saying. “Surely Nero can –”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you know what this is for?” Vergil interrupts, placing the edge of his pen next to where he’s circled a row of numbers in red. “It’s on every bill dating as far back as I can see, the money wired to an unknown source. And neither of us are human,” he tacks on. “I see no need to use the – internet, when pen and paper works just fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lady crosses the room, then, to place both hands down on the desk and peer at the papers. She heaves Kalina Ann off her back before doing so, and Vergil takes it as a sign of good faith.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She squints, her oddly-colored eyes scrutinizing before widening for the smallest moment before returning to normal. If Vergil hadn’t been watching closely, he wouldn’t have noticed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” she says. “That’s Dante’s business.” Her tone is short, clipped suddenly, similar to how she had spoken to him when he and Dante had first returned from hell. It’s unusual, these days.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dante’s business. Vergil raises his eyebrows, folding his hands under his chin in thought. Well, that didn’t sound good. He wanted to trust his brother, but it was troublesome. Lady and Dante both had insinuated that he had had a bit of an alcohol problem in the past. Could this recurring payment belie a drug problem? No, that would have to be taken care of posthaste.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If Dante’s business is detrimental to his health, it would be prudent for me to know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not,” says Lady, sauntering back across the room, settling against the wall and crossing her arms. “It’s not detrimental to his health, and it’s not your business.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But it’s yours?” Vergil asks, making Lady’s eyes flash dangerously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” she says, picking up her gun again. “It’s not mine, either. But he’s liable to let things slip during benders.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mm.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vergil places the papers to the sides, shuffling the rest of the bills, making notations, placing calls to set certain accounts on autopay. Lady watches when he gathers the bills into a folder, neatly labels it, and places it in one of the folders of the desk. The bank statements are still sitting on the desk, the tip of Vergil’s ballpoint pen ticking against the paper rhythmically.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not going to let this go, are you?” asks Lady, sighing. She uncrosses her arms, shifts her weight. “They didn’t teach you manners in the underworld? What did they teach you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Obedience. Pain. Loss of self. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It’s a low blow, but Lady probably doesn’t know that. He doubts Dante has explained the details of what had happened to him, only that it </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> happened to him. For that reason alone, perhaps, he shouldn’t pry into Dante’s business.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he can’t let this go. His mind has already gone to the worst place possible. If Dante really does have a drug problem or – or something worse, some other sort of addiction… Lady has said it’s not detrimental to his health, but that won’t stop his mind from wandering.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But all he says is: “No. I am not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sighs again, looks over her shoulder like she expects Dante to walk through it, to listen in on their conversation, but the door doesn’t open. Vergil would be able to sense if Dante were nearby anyway – he isn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” starts Lady, running a hand through her hair. “He – he sends money to Grue’s two remaining daughters every month, and he’s really serious about it. Serious enough to – to forgo rent, or his bills, if he has to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The force of her words hits Vergil like a ton of bricks, or perhaps like a Hell Antenora swinging its cleaver into his side. If he were a lesser person – demon – perhaps he would falter physically. Instead, he just casts his eyes downward, focusing on the tiny numbers printed in ink. All those zeroes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And Grue is –”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know who Grue is,” Vergil cuts her off. He doesn’t want to hear anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looks surprised, but doesn’t ask why, and continues; she has no reason to suspect the weight in his chest or the jolt in his stomach. He feels physically sick, in a way he hasn’t since and hadn’t until he was V. He has not missed the feeling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s never missed a payment as long as I’ve known he was doing it, which is probably – I don’t know, 5 years give or take after he started. It’s been –”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“ – 26 years. I know,” he says softly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lady stops her prattling then, looking up to meet his eyes, hers narrowed in suspicion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t answer. He doesn’t owe her an answer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think you should leave now,” he says, instead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Vergil,” she starts, hoisting the gun up higher on her shoulder and making like she’s going to cross the threshold of the entryway again. “Vergil, listen –”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lady,” he says, and gods, the pain in his voice is so obvious to his ears. “Please go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She must hear the pain too, he thinks, because she doesn’t argue further, turning to go. She stops in the doorway, not turning around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Vergil,” she starts again. “It would be in your best interest to –” she clears her throat. “You shouldn’t say anything. To Dante. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Please</span>
  </em>
  <span> don’t say anything to Dante,” she clarifies. And then she’s gone, with a click of the door and the sizzle of a cigarette lighting up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vergil puts his head in his hands.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>Lady’s words gnaw at him. Eat at him like a hook in his chest; unrelenting like Mundus’s grip had been, so many years ago. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t say anything,</span>
  </em>
  <span> she had advised. But he feels as if he has to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He lies awake, now, Dante’s arm slung around his waist and the curve of his naked back visible in the moonlight. The two of them are nocturnal by nature, and Vergil is sure he only keeps human hours for the sake of customers. But the moonlight does provide a nice backdrop for when they go to bed – be it biblically or otherwise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vergil’s skin feels too sensitive, the silk of his pajamas sliding up and down as he shifts in a way that should feel nice but just feels uncomfortable, scratchy. He wants to shed them like a second skin, like his scales when they molt, but that would mean dealing with his naked body, which he doesn’t think he’s ready to do, yet. And especially not now, in this moment of vulnerability.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shifts again, and Dante grunts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whats’it,” he asks, but it comes out like more of a statement. His voice is thick with the warm blanket of sleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing,” says Vergil, pulling the covers around them both, though they do not need it. “Nothing, go back to bed. Just nightmares.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That sucks,” he grunts, and rolls back over. Neither of them are any strangers to terrors of the night. In fact, Dante has suffered from them chronically since long before their lives had become a living one. They can both sense when one of them truly needs the other to stay awake, and to comfort.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dante might even know he is lying about the nightmare in general, but has decided not to call him on it in favor of resting. Good, he deserves it. For someone with advanced healing, he somehow always looks tired.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vergil leans over to press his lips to his brother’s hair, taking in the scent there. He turns so that he is facing the other way; away from Dante, and straight at the full moon shining outside of the bedroom window. He does not fall asleep for a very long time.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>Vergil lasts four days before he simply can’t take it anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two of them had done a lot of grievance airing in hell. There had been a lot of time to fight, and even more time to talk. Enough time to fuck and enough time to eventually let that tumble into sex and then into making love, and into properly mating like a pair of demon twins should.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was enough time for Vergil to tell Dante the actual story of how Nero had come about, and there was enough time Dante to fill Vergil in on what had happened over the past two and a half decades.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were in their 40s now – and had spent such a small bit of that time actually, physically together, and not just as two opposite points circling around the axis of the sins of the father. For all that they loved each other – belonged together, would always be together, from now on – there was a lot to learn about each other, still.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But they had settled into a relationship, peeling back the layers of each other bit by bit, at a comfortable pace. Domesticity was easy: easier than either of them had expected, and things had been relatively quiet in the months since Vergil had moved into Devil May Cry. Quiet. Happy. Loving and in love, though it made Vergil feel like a foolish sap for even thinking the words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In hindsight, Vergil supposes it was only a matter of time before the other shoe dropped.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>“Can we talk?” Vergil asks Dante over dinner that night. It’s not pizza again; Vergil has noticed Dante’s pointed efforts at cooking rather than constant carryout. The menus still sit haphazardly magneted against his refrigerator door, but food is actually on the shelves now. Vergil can barely cook at all, so he gladly eats anything Dante gives to him. Tonight is pasta with sauce from a jar. Easy, but it’s a relatively big step for his brother.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vergil still isn’t used to giving compliments out loud, but he eats the entire bowl and offers to do the dishes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure, what about?” Dante asks easily, passing his bowl over to Vergil with a grin and standing up to go get a drink. “This have to do with those ‘nightmares’ from the other night?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ah. So he had noticed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In a sense.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mm. So do you want to tell me what’s really going on?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No. He really doesn’t. But he </span>
  <em>
    <span>has</span>
  </em>
  <span> to, or this feeling in his chest won’t go away. He knows that he should probably take Lady’s words to heart – she’s been Dante’s best friend for as long as he’s been absent from his brother’s life – but Vergil is his </span>
  <em>
    <span>twin,</span>
  </em>
  <span> and his lover, and surely he would know better.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why don’t you sit down?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ooh,” Dante asks, mock fear in his voice, but he pulls out a chair and slumps into it heavily nonetheless. “Am I in trouble?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vergil rolls his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, you make it very hard to have serious conversations with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dante shrugs instead of retorting back, and as soon as the words have left his mouth Vergil realizes that that probably is the point.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry,” he says, at least having the decency to look abashed and sheepish when Vergil doesn’t say anything. “Okay, shoot, Verge, I’m listening.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Vergil says, and then realizes he has no idea how to start this conversation. Foolish: he should have conquered this like it was a fight, calculating and analyzing how the opponent worked before strategically making his move. That, he was good at. That, he often won at.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The silence must stretch longer than he realizes, because eventually Dante can no longer sit still, and begins bouncing his leg.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, Verge, you’re giving me anxiety. Say what you need to say, dammit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right,” he tries again, and then takes a deep breath. This is ridiculous. He is being ridiculous, like a small child. What would Mother think, if she could see them now? “I want to –” Deep breath. Ridiculous. “I want to apologize –”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dante raises his eyebrows. Vergil recalls his words in the underworld quite well, even now. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Let’s call it even, alright? I forgive you. Moving on.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>But Dante clearly </span>
  <em>
    <span>hadn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> moved on, not from this one thing, and Vergil had to – say something. He wasn’t a selfish 19 year old brat anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just wish to apologize for my actions during my time as Gilver. I understand that –”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A force of energy hits him so hard that he is nearly knocked off his feet with the strength of it, and he abruptly stops talking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead of fighting against it, he shuts his eyes, and lets Dante’s demonic aura wash over him. When Vergil chances opening his eyes a moment later, his brother’s are still tinted red, the pupils thinned into slits. His fingernails have lengthened into talons, and his teeth are now fangs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vergil has seen him have this partial trigger reaction once before: when he had entered the shop as V, and informed Dante that a demon named Vergil was wreaking havoc. It had not been pleasant to watch then, and it is not pleasant to watch now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Dante opens his mouth to speak, his voice comes out in a double vibrato, and Vergil is sure it’s taking everything in him not to shift into a full demon form. Perhaps he should have heeded Lady’s advice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, Vergil,” he says, quieter than Vergil would have thought that voice capable of speaking. Shaking, but somehow so calm. “You know, you’re a real asshole, bringing this up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dante –” Vergil starts, and he’s surprised to find that he’s desperate for a way to make this right. “Don’t be hasty.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut the fuck up, Vergil,” he says, in a quiet, shaking snarl that Vergil hasn’t heard in 24 years, standing on the top of a tower in the rain. “I don’t want to talk about this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He may not want to, but Vergil </span>
  <em>
    <span>needs</span>
  </em>
  <span> to apologize, to make this right. And the elephant was already in the room, as it were. He may as well press on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dante, you’re acting like a child,” he says in a tone that he’s not proud of.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dante doesn’t answer, just stands up from his chair and slams it back toward the table, stalking toward the doorway like some sort of fearsome predator. Which, Vergil supposes, he is.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you’re going to walk away?” Vergil says, snorting. It’s not smart but – it’s the only tactic he can think of, to get Dante to turn around and have this conversation, the one that he </span>
  <em>
    <span>needs</span>
  </em>
  <span> to have, it’s pulling in his chest. “You’re just going to walk away. Very mature.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut the </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span> up, Vergil!” Dante roars, then, turning around and rushing at Vergil at an alarming speed, pinning him to the wall with one, large, clawed hand. The red of his eyes is almost yellow in this light, sickly. It is a testament to Vergil’s own steel will that he doesn’t transform as well. Or a testament to his training. He prefers to think it’s the first.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My actions during that time were abhorrent,” says Vergil, not bothering to try and escape Dante’s grip. They both know that it won’t kill him. “I merely wish to apologize – it’s not good for either of us to hold on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, is that all you wanted?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I swear it,” Vergil says. “I want to move past this – it was holding us both back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was holding </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> back,” says Dante, and his grip doesn’t loosen even a bit. “I moved on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vergil is silent for a moment, studying Dante’s eyes and face and expression. A smattering of scales have appeared over the bridge of his nose like freckles. Vergil hasn’t seen this much anger in his eyes since they stood atop the qliphoth. But he has to make this right. He has to see that expression soften, to let go of the old hurt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think you did,” he says, as gently as he can. He is not a person inclined to be gentle – but he knows when the moment holds space for it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What brought this on, huh?” asks Dante, slamming his hand toward the wall again, the force causing Vergil to take a rough swallow. “It was – it was fucking 26 years ago, Verge, what the fuck brought this on?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vergil takes a deep breath. He’s already backed himself into a corner. And Nero is always telling him to talk about his feelings – telling them </span>
  <em>
    <span>both</span>
  </em>
  <span> to talk about their feelings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know I’ve been keeping the books,” he starts, but that’s all it takes for the human flesh of Dante’s skin to go ghostly pale and for his grip to falter, as the realization comes over him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who told you?” he asks, and his voice trembles with terribleness. “Who </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking</span>
  </em>
  <span> told you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It doesn’t matter,” says Vergil, deflecting the question. Whatever this was going to break into – a fight, a spar, destructive sex – Lady did not deserve blame. “I merely wanted to apologize, to help – to help you move on, when you clearly haven’t. I know you’re still sending money to –”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“DON’T you say his name!” Dante shouts, then, moving his hand off of the wall and letting Vergil clatter to the floor with a hard </span>
  <em>
    <span>fwump.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dante, listen,” Vergil says, hating the urgency in his voice. But he’s beseeching him now, it’s not beneath him. He had started this, and now he was going to finish it. He had done horrible things back then, jealousy controlling him like a possessive lover, and it had been impossible to stop his rage when he had found his little brother alive with </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything he had wanted.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Friends. A mother. A job. A lover. For those months he had spent as Tony’s partner, the fury and hurt he had suffered through was nearly unbearable. He had let himself be pulled along by a thread connected to Sparda’s power, the only identity he had left to imprint on and hold onto.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had been grieving his child, wrapping himself in a covering like a ritual, ignoring the wetness on his chest and praying it didn’t bleed through to the front he presented. It had been awful. And there had been Tony Redgrave, dangled in front of him and shining like a beacon sent to antagonize him: loud, cocky, vibrant, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>happy.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>It had been horrible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wants to make Dante understand this, but he doesn’t know how.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Listen,” he tries again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, </span>
  <em>
    <span>YOU</span>
  </em>
  <span> listen!” roars Dante. The power behind his words is somewhat diminished by the way he is crouching in the corner, clawing at the wall as he tries his damndest not to fully trigger. “You listen! I loved him, you fuck! I loved him! Is that what you want to hear? Those kids were </span>
  <em>
    <span>my</span>
  </em>
  <span> kids! That family was </span>
  <em>
    <span>my </span>
  </em>
  <span>– he was my – I </span>
  <em>
    <span>loved</span>
  </em>
  <span> him, and he’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>gone,</span>
  </em>
  <span> because of </span>
  <em>
    <span>you.</span>
  </em>
  <span> I don’t know what you did to him – I don’t know where he is – but I know that I had a </span>
  <em>
    <span>life</span>
  </em>
  <span> with him until </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> started poking around. And because of you I had to – I had to –”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His breath hitches, and he stops talking. Vergil knows what he was going to say, or he can think of a million things that would fit there, each of them as terrible as the last. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I had to let go of a father and a lover all in one. I had to kill his daughter. </span>
  </em>
  <span>My</span>
  <em>
    <span> daughter. I had to watch Nell die. I had to watch as you killed every single person I loved, out of </span>
  </em>
  <span>jealousy,</span>
  <em>
    <span> and I had to denounce them. I had to go through excruciating pain while your selfish,</span>
  </em>
  <span> selfish</span>
  <em>
    <span> ass disemboweled me. I had to find out my brother was alive in the worst way possible. I had built a life, and you forced me to lose it.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>It does not take a genius, or the glint of Dante’s tears in the narrow light of the foyer, to know that he is crying.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dante had loved him, he’d said. His kids. His family.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vergil knows how his brother feels about him. He knows that Dante loves him. He does.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he can’t help but think – maybe if –</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vergil is not proud of his actions, after that. They are the actions of a coward. But he turns tail, Yamato in his hand like a security blanket, and runs. A disgraceful mother toward his son, slicing a portal in the air like it’s the flesh of an enemy. He leaves Dante alone to his weeping.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He is certain: when Dante calms and collects himself, he won’t want to see Vergil for a long while.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>WHEW OKAY!! mind the updated tags!!</p><p>few notes: they don't <i>really</i> talk things out here. they do - a bit - but having them have a whole therapeutic chat about the situation felt out of character. anyway, i know a lot of people don't vibe with gilver/the novel because they think dante couldn't forgive vergil for what he did, and that's totally valid! however, i think dante is willing to do just about anything for vergil, and that's what's going on here. yeah, their relationship is messy and they're both emotionally constipated, but this is fiction, so.</p><p>blink and you miss it allusion to ladytrish and an even tinier allusion to nerokirinico (although you don't have to read it that way if you don't like). discussions of past dantrish.</p><p>again - i headcanon that vergil is nero's mother - and the events of <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24512590">this fic</a> are alluded to. you can pretty much assume anything i write for DV is based around a similar headcanon regarding nero's birth. brief summary: vergil gets pregnant (just before gilver), gives birth (it's an egg), thinks the egg is not viable and that he lost his child.</p><p>as stated in the tags, i write the twins with fantasy hybrid genitalia – a cock and pussy combo – so heads up for that if that's not your jam!</p><p>OK, i think that's it, ONTO THE FIC!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The moment Vergil is out the door, Dante gives up on holding himself back, and lets his trigger wash over him like an ocean wave, cresting until it crashes and he feels grounded again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their time in the underworld had been good and bad to them, both emotionally and physically. Now Dante could wear his lower devil form or his sin form for much longer than he’d previously been able. It’s easier to deal with strong emotions that way too, energy running on the surface of his skin like he’s been shocked by an electrical current, somewhere else to focus the turmoil rather than letting it coil in his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he’s still only a half-demon, and so it wears off eventually, forcing him back into his human skin again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And his skin feels stretched too tightly over a brittle canvas, and he has to wonder if this is simply a product of age, or if his pent up feelings are truly affecting him this much.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After years of staying numb, of living life ready to die, acknowledging the past felt like tearing open his stomach and plunging a blade into it. Now that he has a purpose for living again, he only sees the need to move forward. Not to be held back by the oppressive weight in his chest that is his time as Tony Redgrave. Bringing those memories to the surface makes him feel stagnant, like he can’t continue forward until he expunges them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dammit, </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> is why he doesn’t talk about shit like this in the first place. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This</span>
  </em>
  <span> is why he had told Vergil he’d forgiven him! He’d moved on! He had his money wired to the girls every month, and that was that. There was no need to reflect on, or even worse, to </span>
  <em>
    <span>discuss</span>
  </em>
  <span> his feelings around the situation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everything that had happened simply was what it was: he had been young, dumb, and in love. The moment he had found out Vergil was alive again his relationship with Grue would have ended anyway, regardless of Vergil’s violent breakdown and sheer desperation for catharsis. Even if he and Jessica had been left alive, there was no denying the tether hooked around his spine that led directly to his twin. No matter how many times Vergil had stabbed Dante in the chest, or how many people he’d killed that Dante had loved, they had been once since the womb, and nothing was going to take away from that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shivers, despite the summer heat and humidity in the air. Too much. He’s thinking too much.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For lack of anything better to do, Dante goes to bed early that night, attempting to quiet the racing thoughts in his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bed feels big and empty without Vergil, despite how many years he’d spent alone in it, rolling over the space meant for two and waking up drenched in sweat from night terrors, wishing someone else were there. He’d gotten used to the feeling of someone at his side stupidly fast; in the underworld they’d always slept touching each other so as to be sure the other was there and wasn’t attacked in the night. It hadn’t been a question that they’d continue the practice after returning to the overworld. Even when they weren’t touching, Dante could feel Vergil’s presence, his scent a welcome addition to his own permeating the room and eventually, the entire shop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’d hardly spent time apart since stepping over the threshold of the shop several weeks ago. Perhaps it wasn’t healthy, but it did mean that Vergil’s absence weighed on Dante like an anchor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It takes him hours to fall asleep, and he pointedly does not think about Vergil until he does.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>He dreams about him, of course. But that isn’t new. This dream is, though. Dante, in his 17 year old body, walks into Bobby’s Cellar only to see Gilver standing over the bodies of Jessica and Grue, their blood streaming out onto the hardwood like a river under a red sunset, seeping into the cracks of the old bar floor. Gilver says nothing, simply stares at Dante, and begins to unravel his bandages, unwrapping them slowly, one layer at a time. His hair is visible first, white as the whites of his blue-grey eyes, and soon his nose, his chin, the entire shape of his face is apparent. It’s like looking in a cruel mirror, because he </span>
  <em>
    <span>knows</span>
  </em>
  <span> that face, but that face is dead, that face had been taken from this world far too early, and left Dante </span>
  <em>
    <span>alone.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He is staring in open mouthed horror as the blood washes over his boots, because this can’t be Vergil. He looks down, and his feet are bare; he can feel the brine of the blood between his toes, but can’t make himself move. He finally wrenches his head up, and Gilver has rid himself of his suit to begin pulling the bandages from his chest. It looks bigger than it should, a postpartum chest, sagging and deflated. As the cloth finally falls from his stomach, an open gash begins to pour blood like a mouth vomiting its contents onto the floor, and Gilver falls atop the bodies already piled there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You did this,” he says, voice gravelly and distorted, and Dante wakes with a start, drenched in sweat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s 5 in the morning. Disgusted with himself, he hurls himself out of bed and lets himself be pulled toward the bathroom as if by external force. The cold of the shower helps some, his forehead pressing against the tile as if he can make all of the thoughts in his brain leave by some sort of pressure osmosis. It’s useless.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>It’s been 3 days, and Vergil still hasn’t returned, and Dante can’t go a moment without feeling like he wants to deposit everything in his gut into the toilet. He wouldn’t have </span>
  <em>
    <span>left,</span>
  </em>
  <span> surely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The thought of him leaving, truly leaving, is worse to dwell on than the constant, dull pain of the thought that had been on his mind since their fight: that he disgraced the memories of everyone he had loved when he had been Tony, by letting himself be with Vergil.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For better or for worse, Vergil is the center of his universe, and he will always revolve around his twin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He attempts to distract himself with jobs, calling Morrison and begging for anything, even the kind of cleanup reserved for amateurs. When jobs run out, he goes out hunting himself, itching to drive his sword into flesh, to fire off his guns and watch a demon writhe before melting back into the underworld. Anything to tire himself out enough that he will fall into bed and sleep a dreamless sleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It doesn’t work, of course, and on the third day, he gives up and calls Trish.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>“It’s not like you to be calling me at this hour,” is the first thing out of her mouth. She’s picked up on the second ring. “Looking for a late night rendezvous?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Only for you, babe,” he says out of habit, a song-and-dance routine they have down to muscle memory at this point.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She laughs, but immediately sobers. Damn her and her ability to read him. For all of the messy miscommunication back when they had attempted something like dating, she certainly saw him like an open book, now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, cut the shit Dante. You haven’t called in the middle of the night like this since </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> got back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unlike Lady, Trish did not tolerate Vergil. Dante suspects this has to do with how uncomfortable the two of them make each other, rather than her actually disapproving of him. It makes sense, considering her origins and their subsequent time under Mundus’ control. As much as he’d love for one of his closest friends and his lover to be able to be in the same room with each other, some things go far beyond picking at closed wounds, and transition straight to tearing off the scab. It’s not worth it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dante shrugs, lifting one shoulder into the moonlight streaming through the window.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. He’s not here right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He on a solo job? Didn’t know you were letting him out of your sight just yet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not his </span>
  <em>
    <span>keeper,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Dante snaps, but immediately feels a pang of guilt in his chest. She’s only asking an innocent question. “Sorry. I mean, no. He’s not. We had –”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, it’s baby’s first fight after the marriage, huh?” she asks, drily and unsurprised. He sighs. She’s not entirely wrong. They’d been doing so </span>
  <em>
    <span>well,</span>
  </em>
  <span> gliding over the past like it hadn’t happened.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was </span>
  <em>
    <span>before</span>
  </em>
  <span> the fight on the qliphoth, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>after, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and Dante was firmly adamant that nothing before needed to be brought up now that they were on the other side of that wall. He was sure Vergil had his own secrets, and that had worked just fine for him. They’d discussed plenty of things in Hell, but some things deserved to be kept behind locked boxes. Dante had assumed Vergil had been of the same mind, but then he’d had to go ahead and prod at that fragile glass house with his </span>
  <em>
    <span>guilt,</span>
  </em>
  <span> and it had all come tumbling down, shattering around his ankles. There was nowhere for him to walk without drawing blood.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He explains as much to Trish, and she’s silent for a while before speaking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Man,” she says. “You two are idiots, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, that’s very constructive. Very helpful.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, shut up,” she sighs. “You know you’re being an idiot. I hope so, at least.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m</span>
  </em>
  <span> not the one who left without a word. I would’ve been fine with a few hours cooling off and going on like nothing happened.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s the problem,” she snorts. “Maybe you two should talk about your feelings. For once. Or something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ugh. Dante lets himself fall back against his pillow with a </span>
  <em>
    <span>fwump.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I figured we’d, I don’t know, fuck it out. When did you get all sentimental?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He can practically feel her roll her eyes when she answers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have a girlfriend that I don’t think would let me get away with a relationship like you and I once had. And you’re not 28 anymore either. You love Vergil. A relationship isn’t sustainable on fucking alone. You should know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We talk,” he protests. “We talked. In the underworld. A lot,” he adds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure you did,” she says, in a long-suffering way, like she’d mockingly pat him on the shoulder if she were here. “I’m sure you said everything you needed to say to each other.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I –”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She cuts him off, and Dante can hear Lady’s voice in the background.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dante, it’s 3 in the fucking morning. I’m sure he’s at Nero’s, so stop being so dramatic.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With that, she hangs up, and he’s left with his thoughts again.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>He waits till normal waking hours to call Nero, because he does not want to deal with Nero </span>
  <em>
    <span>or </span>
  </em>
  <span>Nico’s ire if he calls in the middle of the night, or </span>
  <em>
    <span>worse,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Kyrie’s insistence that it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>fine, really, no problem, I’ll wake Nero up, no problem,</span>
  </em>
  <span> while she sounds </span>
  <em>
    <span>exhausted</span>
  </em>
  <span> from taking care of all those orphans.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he does call the minute it becomes socially acceptable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“About time you called, old man,” greets Nero, unceremoniously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah,” says Dante, annoyed. He doesn’t need his nephew’s shit about this. “Your mom there?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Nero answers. Good, he didn’t really run away, then. “And I don’t know what the fuck went down between you two, but you better work this shit out, alright? Our house doesn’t have room for a seventh person,” he continues.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You talk some sense into him, then. He’s your parent.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s your </span>
  <em>
    <span>twin,</span>
  </em>
  <span> asshole!” Nero retorts. “And your...lover. Whatever. It’s not like Vergil and I are especially close, or anything. Besides, </span>
  <em>
    <span>you’re</span>
  </em>
  <span> the one fighting with him, I didn’t do shit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nero..”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh-uh,” Nero cuts him off. “Don’t start. Come collect him before I kick him out. You’re going to make up whether you like it or not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That an order, kid?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It sure as hell ain’t a suggestion,” Nero says, and hangs up, leaving Dante to look at the receiver in his hand like it personally offended him.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>It’s a non-issue, though, because Vergil shows up at his door a few hours later, holding Yamato like a security blanket and looking perturbed. But that’s Vergil’s default expression, so Dante isn’t sure if he should take it as a bad sign or not.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Neither of them speak for a moment, until it becomes apparent that Vergil is not going to cross the threshold.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come in, dumbass,” says Dante, rolling his eyes. “What are you waiting for, an invitation?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Didn’t want to set you off again, brother,” Vergil says lightly, stepping into the foyer and hanging his coat on the rack before continuing onto the kitchen like nothing is wrong.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, wait!” calls Dante. “You don’t get to run off on me. Come back here and talk, what the fuck?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Talk?” asks Vergil, and he doesn’t have to turn around for Dante to know he has an eyebrow cocked. “Isn’t that what got us into his mess?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Asshole. Dante snarls.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And it’ll get us out of this mess, don’t be an idiot.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The silent stretches between them like a pulled thread on an old shirt, neither one of them wanting to be the first to speak. Eventually, Dante rolls his eyes and heads to the bedroom, and he doesn’t have to look to know that Vergil is following.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If nothing else, they can fuck it out. Screw what Trish had said. It had always worked before. And it would continue to, until they got to a place where they could truly talk through their feelings. They would arrive at that mountaintop, eventually, but it was going to be a slow ascent to the peak.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dante slams the bedroom door shut as soon as the both of them get into the room, stepping out of his sweats and pulling off his shirt, tossing it on the floor. He catches Vergil’s expression of distaste out of the corner of his mind, but if he wants dirty clothes in the hamper, then he can throw them in there himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But instead of picking the clothes up, Vergil just rolls his eyes and peels off his own clothing, folding it neatly and placing it on the dresser before joining Dante in bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, you’re acting awfully pissed off at </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span> when you’re the one who started this whole mess,” says Dante crossing his arms, not looking at Vergil. He looks every bit like the petulant child who used to make the same pose when Vergil wouldn’t give him any attention when they were young. “You weren’t even mad when you left. You were just being a coward.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Perhaps I’ve had some time to reflect,” Vergil quips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh? And what’d you reflect on? This better not be some bullshit self-pity.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vergil goes silent. Of course it was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t like to talk about that shit, Verge. I told you. I fucking said. I said we’d moved on, huh? What’d you have to go bringing it up for?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, </span>
  <em>
    <span>pardon me</span>
  </em>
  <span> for feeling some </span>
  <em>
    <span>guilt.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Next time I’ll keep it to myself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You do that,” Dante responds, crossing his arms. Neither of them talk for a while.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t –” Vergil starts, but Dante opens his mouth at the same time, speaking over him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I had to kill my own daughter Vergil, do you know how fucked up that is? I’ll never forget it. I will </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span> forget the look in her eyes, pleading with me; I had to cock my gun and shoot it right through her forehead, make sure the kill stuck. That’s not right. She was so young.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She wasn’t much younger than you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“God</span>
  <em>
    <span>dammit,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Verge, that’s not the point! I had to grow up fast, just like you! But she was a 15 year old with a life ahead of her! I was so in love with her father, I thought of myself – maybe erroneously so – as the girls’ mother. So that’s what it felt like. Felt like killing my own daughter.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not the only one who’s lost a child, Dante.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But Nero came </span>
  <em>
    <span>back,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Vergil! You have him!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That doesn’t change what happened. While you were playing happy family with –” he cuts himself off with Dante’s glare. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t you say his name! </span>
  </em>
  <span>“– with </span>
  <em>
    <span>him,</span>
  </em>
  <span> I was going through an incredibly painful loss. And I acted out, without considering the consequences for those in my path. And I wanted to apologize – I would’ve thought you’d have considered that progress. But of course, you had to act selfish about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Selfish!?</span>
  </em>
  <span> That’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>your</span>
  </em>
  <span> act! You’ve </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span> considered my feelings!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And now I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>trying</span>
  </em>
  <span> to! Are you that obtuse that you don’t realize that!?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You brought up the </span>
  <em>
    <span>one thing –”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Be quiet,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Dante!” Vergil roars, and at some point they’d escalated to yelling. His pupils had elongated to slits, his nails curving into talons; Dante was sure he looked the same, unable to stop the trigger from traveling through his veins and pulling itself through his skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dante is on top of Vergil before either of them realize it, fangs clamping over his neck like a claim, biting down hard enough to draw blood. The wound will close before it even appears, but it feels good to assert dominance over his brother, when he’s pissed him off like this, but god he loves him so much. It’s inevitable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vergil grunts, pressing a knee to Dante’s stomach, and he falters, loosening his grip on Vergil’s neck. Vergil takes advantage of this, flipping them and crawling on top of Dante to nip at his lip before shoving his tongue inside. It’s not a pleasant kiss: it’s a retaliation. But Vergil’s fingers brush his cheek and Dante knows that neither of them could ever truly hate each other.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dante wastes no time, pushing at the bottom of Vergil’s shirt until he takes it off, and paws at his chest, leaning to swirl his tongue around a nipple before clamping his mouth around it, gently, but enough for his fangs to prick. Vergil jerks involuntarily, and Dante takes his momentary lapse to roll back on top of him. He continues to lick at Vergil’s tits, moving his hand down to his briefs, pulling at the waistband. Before he can do much, however, Vergil’s hand is pulling Dante’s boxers down, and wrapping around his cock.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s dry; it’s not pleasant, but it’s grounding, a reminder that Vergil is </span>
  <em>
    <span>here. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He rubs at it like a teenager who’s just watched his first porno, biting at his lip with determination.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck you,” Dante breathes. “Fucking...dry handjob.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vergil levels him with annoyed stare and presses his fingers into Dante’s cunt, which has conveniently begun to leak. He moves them experimentally, pressing at the spongy bit that makes Dante’s eyes go dark, but pulls them back out before the effect can last, moving his fingers back to Dante’s cock.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is this acceptable?” he asks, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>shit,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Dante is hard, and he needs to be inside of Vergil </span>
  <em>
    <span>now.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck you,” he repeats, panting. “Fuck you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d rather figured that was the idea.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then stop fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>teasing</span>
  </em>
  <span> me,” he growls, and pulls Vergil’s breifs down. He’s hard too, painfully so, leaking from the tip, and, Dante gathers from a sniff, from his cunt, too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He scrambles backward, sitting on his heels before burying his face between Vergil’s legs, licking a stripe up his slit and under the bottom of his cock. Vergil grunts, burying a hand in Dante’s hair, moving his head closer, and Dante takes the opportunity to thrust his tongue inside of Vergil’s folds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Enough foreplay,” Vergil gets out, but he’s panting. There’s barely been </span>
  <em>
    <span>any</span>
  </em>
  <span> foreplay, but that’s the point, Dante gathers; this isn’t making love, this isn’t having sex, this is </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking,</span>
  </em>
  <span> because neither of them ever learned how to communicate, and they both need to show each other rather than tell.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Needy,” Dante chastises, but within moments he has Vergil’s legs thrown over his shoulder and is thrusting inside of him. Vergil cries out, but it lengthens into a low moan and Dante takes this as a cue to keep going. He gets his hand around Vergil’s leaking cock, rubbing lazily as he moves in and out of his slick snatch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vergil moves his hips, bucking up to meet where Dante’s snap against his, hands making aborted movements by his side, like they’re itching to move, and eventually one of them does, kneading at Dante’s chest, tweaking one of his nipples.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dante cries out and Vergil clamps tighter around him, god he feels just as good as he always does, hot and wet and perfect for him. It’s cliche, but he can’t help but think that they fit together like puzzle pieces, meant to slot neatly together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck, Vergil,” Dante breathes. “You’re so – </span>
  <em>
    <span>stupid,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Vergil, </span>
  <em>
    <span>god – </span>
  </em>
  <span>oh!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He can barely speak, Vergil grabs onto his hips and moves Dante deeper into him, making sounds in the back of his throat that go straight to Dante’s groin. He’s sure his pussy is dripping onto the sheets, clenching around nothing, desperate to be filled. He moves in and out of Vergil faster, and he swears he can feel it all over his body. Sex with Vergil feels like a million live wires running through his veins instead of blood; incredible, emotional, and overwhelming.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A tight heat pulls at the back of his cock and he knows he’s close to finishing, sure that Vergil is too from the way he’s breathing heavily, a determined look on his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dante is biting so hard at his lip with desperation that he breaks the skin, blood running down his chin. He hefts Vergil’s legs up higher, steadying himself on his twin’s shoulder, giving a last few earnest thrusts before he spills inside of him, orgasm coursing through him like a river after a heavy rain. His dick twitches and his cunt pulses, wanting to wrap itself around something, </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He feels Vergil’s do the same – but he has Dante’s dick to clench around, and he’s bucking up into it, riding out his orgasm as he shoots from his own cock, all over his stomach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit,” Dante cries, “fuck, Verge, shit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vergil doesn’t answer, just grabs onto Dante’s arm, pulling him closer and moving through the second wave of orgasm. Dante can feel his pussy flutter and twitch, before he cries and lays back, and Dante finally moves his legs and lets Vergil fall back onto the sheets.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dante falls on top of him, letting their foreheads touch, saying what he can’t, before collapsing in the space next to him. They’re sweaty and sticky, but he doesn’t want to move right now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s not a teenager anymore, though, so he does, rolls over and grabs his shirt off the ground to clean the both of them off before laying back, throwing an arm over his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vergil breathes deeply, and Dante follows suit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Verge.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vergil grunts, but it sounds tired rather than dismissive, so Dante continues on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not you anymore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vergil doesn’t question what he means. He knows. He isn’t that person anymore, it’s true. But that doesn’t mean he hadn’t committed any of those acts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not anymore. But it was. And I intend to atone for that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But it’s not </span>
  <em>
    <span>anymore,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Vergil, and I forgive you for that. I told you that. Told you that from the jump.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It certainly didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>sound</span>
  </em>
  <span> like you’d moved on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because I </span>
  <em>
    <span>hadn’t,</span>
  </em>
  <span> but that didn’t have to do with </span>
  <em>
    <span>you.</span>
  </em>
  <span> I never processed the situation, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> I had already forgiven! I never needed an apology from you, Vergil, I needed a – goddamn therapist! But I was in no state to do that, so I locked all that shit up. In case you haven’t figured it out, I wasn’t exactly doing </span>
  <em>
    <span>well</span>
  </em>
  <span> in your absence. It was raw. That shit was raw, I hadn’t ever intended to think about it again. Because the second I do –”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You feel like you betrayed everybody involved in the collateral damage.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well. Yeah, but he hadn’t expected Vergil to be so perceptive about it. He didn’t know why he was surprised; he always had been good at reading Dante. Better than he liked, actually.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dante shrugs, one shoulder falling up and down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re it for me, though, Verge. Tear down the overworld and the underworld for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vergil snorts lightly, but when Dante shifts his gaze, he’s gone pink.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I you,” he returns softly. “Nero talked to me. He told me I was being ridiculous, that you had your own problems, but that you loved me, and had already chosen this life with me. I apologize for being a coward and running out while you were – going through catharsis. And for ignoring you when you said to stop talking.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dante’s eyes widen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Damn, Vergil. You been practicing that? Because that’s an apology I can accept. You’re really trying, aren’t you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Enough, Dante.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a while, they breathe together, the room silent but for the soft inhales and exhales in tandem.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re all kinds of fucked up, huh?” asks Dante.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” agrees Vergil. “But we are together.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i hope you enjoyed!! if you did, i love kudos and i love comments even more &lt;3</p><p>if you didn't, kindly exit out!!</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>ok, hope you enjoyed!! kudos &amp; comments are always appreciated if you did; if you didn't, just exit out :3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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